


Raise a Glass to Hope

by coulsons-hawk (allyoop)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Bad Ideas, Bad Puns, Bonding, Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Civil War Fix-It, Companionable Snark, Drunkenness, Feels, Fix-It, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Gen, Group Therapy, Humor, Insult Battle, Interpretive Karaoke Dance Solo, Karaoke, Not Canon Compliant, Ohana, Past Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Relationship(s), Team, Team Dynamics, Team Feels, Team as Family, Walk Into A Bar, no one gets left behind, time is fluid here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 11:21:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6903823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allyoop/pseuds/coulsons-hawk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[ POST CIVIL WAR FIX IT ]</p><p>Sometimes the best way to relieve tension is a good old fashioned team bonding night at the bar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Raise a Glass to Hope

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: post Civil War, spoilers ahead, non canon compliant, lots of alcohol, Bucky has some negative thoughts

Bucky didn't know how mandated group therapy turned into 'let's drink this bar out of liquor' but these are the Avengers after all.   
  
_ 'Were' _ he corrected himself. It had been many long months since  _ That  _ happened, but some things heal slower than bruises. The mediator in her smart black suit and ever-present legal pad was their proposed solution to all the tension still rolling beneath every recent team interaction. With each passing week, things were at least visibly better. Steve's shoulders were slightly more relaxed every time he saw Stark now, and there was less real heat behind Stark's gibes and eye rolls.    
  
Bucky hung back from the team, staying just outside of their familiar circle, still unsure of where he fit in. As always he sat between Steve and Natasha during the therapy sessions, because he was required to be there, but sometimes that little voice in his head told Bucky he'd be better off still hidden away in Wakanda, deep in frozen sleep. The team could heal without him complicating things. And it wasn't like the mediator appreciated his presence that much. He got the acute feeling she'd rather he seek out his own private therapist. Lord knows he needed it. Even with her firm prompting and Steve's kind eyes, he couldn't talk more than a few sentences about the bits and pieces of past missions he remembered without guilt seizing his throat and he'd shake his head, at a loss for words.   
  
"I don't remember past that." he'd lie, his eyes turned pointedly away from anyone. Why did he have to share this stuff anyways? The team knew what a monster he was even without details. This 'releasing guilt in order to move forward' bit of therapy wasn't helping anyone.    
  
"That's okay, Mr. Barnes" the mediator would adjust her glasses with a slight sigh. "Who would like to share next? I know all of you have experiences weighing heavily on your conscience. Remember that’s something you all share; no single person needs to feel the weight of the entire world holding them down. Mr Stark would you like to-?"...   
  
It was similar every time: the team has made mistakes, very public mistakes, and now they needed to move forward without repeating the past and chalking another city up as a casualty of war. He glanced quickly to Steve on his right. He was listening with a neutral face as Stark spoke about the hundreds of letters and emails he got a week from grieving mothers, angry hate groups, and conspiracy theorists. They drowned out the crayon thank you notes from young fans one-hundred to one. Steve's eyes turned to the floor and Bucky knew he was thinking about their own kitchen table; no longer a suitable place for eating since now it was stacked with bottomless piles of similar letters.   


* * *

Soon the two hours were up and the team rose from the plastic chairs, stretching and chatting absentmindedly. Maybe it was because it was Friday, maybe it was because it had been a damn long week of double therapy sessions, four diplomatic meetings, and yet another SHIELD messenger delivering paperwork and not-so-subtly asking about their 'team status'.   
With that week weighing their shoulders, they soon found themselves at a hole-in-a-wall place in Queens, easily forming the largest group of people that place had seen willingly enter at once.    
Wanda and Vision had declined, not that the robot drank anyways, but they had plans of their own. Banner said no, as usual, but he had taken a minute longer to think about it which was progress as far as Stark was concerned. Thor was all too happy to come, promising the team sips from his 'special mix' and Barton grinned at Natasha, an unspoken dare seeming to pass between them.   
  
Bucky had followed Steve into his car somewhat halfheartedly, not wanting to go anywhere with such a surprisingly festive group, but he didn't want to sit around in their apartment alone. He was grateful to have a place to live ( _ temporarily _ , he reminded himself), and with Steve just like the old days. But everything was still so fragile around and inside him. He didn't want to intrude too much into Steve's new life, and if he was honest, he knew that would be better for the both of them.

He trailed behind the group, trying to not to obviously scope the bar for all exits and any potential threats. It was a habit he struggled to break. Thor hauled Steve up to the bar, Sam and Bucky close behind him. Natasha settled next to Barton and Stark in a booth, doing a quick round of rock-paper-scissors to decide who buys the shots. 

“Ah, bartender! Bring my friends and I your finest pints of beer.”

“Thor, you know I can't get drunk-”

“He did say  _ pints _ Steve, as in multiples for all of us?” Sam grinned. 

Thor smiled at him knowingly. “But these will be no meager Midgardian drink after I-” he fished an intricate silver flask from his pocket. “Add some Asgardian fun to it.”

“Huh.” a smile teased Steve's lips “That might actually work” 

Thor tilted the flask and splashed two drops into the large pint before him. He slid that one to Sam. “Be careful friend, you're still human so don't try to keep up.”

He poured the rest of the flask between the three other glasses in front of him. Steve passed one to Bucky before picking his own up. Thor raised his glass and faced his friends.

“To hope.” 

Whether he meant Steve’s first potential inebriation since his Captain transformation, or perhaps the still-gaping rift between what used to be one team, he didn't make clear. Bucky raised his glass all the same, a spark of a smile on his face. He might as well follow Steve's example. Getting shit faced sounded like a glorious idea right now.

 

_ (( one pint down )) _

 

“You better have more where that came from, Hammertime.” The edges of his words were slurred but Sam's posture was still steady. “Don't think for a minute I can't out-drink these two senior citizens.” 

Thor grinned and passed him another pint. He looked expectantly at Steve and Bucky. 

“Hit me, Thor.” Much to Steve's delight, he was feeling a slight tingle in his fingertips and his cheeks were growing flushed. This might  _ actually _ work. 

“Ahaha!” Thor's booming laugh caught the attention of Natasha who raised an eyebrow in their direction. “That's the spirit! I have much more where that came from.”

He dumped the clearly bottomless flask into Steve's beer, his mirth infectious as Steve joined in the laughing. This was the lightest he’d felt in a while. Bucky held his glass out for a refill as well, relishing the slight unsteadiness of his hand and the warmth rushing through his blood. 

“You boys having a party without me?” Natasha leaned against the bar, slotting herself between Steve and Thor. 

“Nat, have I ever told you how pretty you are? I really like your hair.” Steve flushed brighter than he had in years, immediately wishing he hadn't opened his mouth. 

Natasha’s face was surprised for a second and then melted into a genuine smile. “Thank you, Steve. You're not too bad yourself.” She glanced over at Thor. “I'll have whatever he's drinking.”

“Natasha, friend, I admire you greatly but are you sure-”

“Pretty sure she's matched me drink for drink before.” Bucky responded automatically, almost dropping his glass with the sudden memory.  _ Cold, screaming wind. Nothing but snow visible outside. Bright white contrast that threw light inside the bar every time the door opened. The place was littered with posters splashed in red and black words; slogans that offered no information or hope. He was there to find information, he should move on with his search, but there was a smile framed by red lips beside him, and a drink was slid into his hand. _

There was a question in Steve's eyes but Natasha stole a long swig from the drink in his hand and looked at Thor with a shrug.

“It's not bad.” 

With a grin, Thor gestured for the barman. “The lady will join us! Another round for us all!”

 

_ (( four more pints later )) _

 

Sam whispered into Bucky’s ear with a conspiratorial tone. “I’m gonna ask her.” 

Bucky wanted to be uncomfortable with Sam’s newfound friendliness, but the slight blur to his brain told him this was a good idea. No, a  _ great _ idea.

Sam poked him again. “I’m gonna do it. Watch and learn, Fridge Magnet.” He half-stumbled, half-stood up for a second before collapsing back to his stool. “Shit, I don’t know Russian. Can you teach me?”

“Why do you need to-” It dawned on him. “Oh, you’re trying to be  романтичным ”

“ _ Romanictich-? _ yeah, romantic! I can totally learn Russian in the next minute... right?” Sam leaned into him, his expression an odd mix of hope and three sheets to the wind. 

Bucky looked around for any listening ears and almost knocked over his glass in his enthusiasm. “C’mere.” Sam ducked closer to listen to Bucky’s whispers. “This is what I would say-”

* * *

Natasha dropped a shot glass platter of Thor’s special mix in front of Barton and Stark. “This is the good stuff.”

Barton gestured to where Sam and Bucky were hunched at the bar, trying their hardest to look nonchalant while clearly, drunkenly making bad decisions. “Y’know they’re talking about you, right? I’ve been reading their lips all night. Some real  _ interesting _ things happening over there.”

She shrugged with less grace than usual and an open smile on her face. “Looking forward to the fun to start.”

“Are we not fun?” Stark looked mildly insulted. “I can be fun. There’s karaoke somewhere in here; every self-respecting bar has karaoke.”

“Try a few of these and then get back to me about karaoke.” She returned to her spot at the stool next to Thor, eyes twinkling as he filled up another platter of shots. The team was starting to loosen up again.

 

Natasha heard him approach well before he stood next to her.

“C’mon,” Sam pulled on Bucky’s arm, dragging him along. “You’re my wingman now.” 

Bucky glared at the bar stool that had the audacity to bump into him. The alcohol was making the ground and his resolve unsteady; he was starting to doubt this plan. "I'm pretty sure you're the one with shiny robot wings-" But Sam cut him off with a loud shush.

He reached around for the stool next to Natasha’s and after a moment of drunken confusion, he decided to just lean on the bar. It was safer. “So…”

She smiled sweetly at him. “Something you wanted to tell me?”

“Uh... Oo-vahs krahsee-viyeh glah-zah?”

Bucky mentally patted himself on the back. Sam’s accent was horrible but he sounded it out pretty well after making Bucky repeat it a thousand times.

“Спасибо, Sam. Вы тоже хорошо выглядите” Natasha’s eyes were playful and Bucky groaned inwardly. They hadn’t covered anything else.

“Krahsee-vi, uh, glah-” Sam glanced backwards at Bucky, gesturing at Natasha like  _ come on man, don’t leave me hanging like this! _

Bucky half-shrugged, “I did my best in a minute. You’re not exactly the fastest learner-”

“Not the-?!” Sam whirled on him. “You took half the damn time trying to come up with a compliment. That’s what I get for relying on a frozen popsicle for words of  _ passion _ .” He turned back towards Natasha. “Clearly I should have started with Sam’s classic school of charm.” He not so subtly looked Natasha up and down. “May I say you are looking fine tonight? Those jeans-” Sam gestured and managed to jar his elbow on the table as he did so. “They really accentuate, I mean highlight your-”

Natasha threw her head back with a laugh. “You were better at this sober.”

“It’s gonna be like that, huh? Well then why don’t you and I sober up back at my-”

A loud crash from behind them interrupted what Bucky was sure would have been an awkward moment. 

“Challenge accepted, Captain!” Thor had knocked his bar stool to the floor when he stood. “Team! We must make haste to clear a table for a most epic of arm wrestles!”

“Can we even do that in here?” Barton asked.

Stark opened his wallet and fished around. “Yeah, we’re good. I got cash to cover at least two dozen tables.”

And thus the team cobbled a few tables together and a row of spectator seats, reassuring the barman that no furniture would be harmed if they could help it. 

Steve was stretching his arms out, ears bright red and a grin on his face. “Bucky, you’re my second.”

“Can you even have that in an arm wrestle-”

“Ah, then Natasha you are my second! When can we start this joyous contest?”

Stark whipped out his phone. “In case of a photo finish, we’ll want to document this. And also it needs to be on youtube for PR purposes and posterity. Absolutely not for blackmail reasons.”

“Is anyone even sober enough to referee?” Barton gestured around, looking at the various flushed faces of his teammates. His finger settled pointing at his own chest. “Oh no, it’s  _ me _ . I’m the most sober.”

Thor settled down into a seat at the table, pointing for Steve to join him. 

Bucky felt Sam join at his side. 

“Steve is strong. But is he  _ Asgard _ strong?”

“Won’t stop him from trying.” It was Bucky’s turn to loudly laugh. “This is way too familiar, I’m getting déjà vu.”

“What, Steve being an idiot? Welcome to my world.” Sam nudged his ribs. “I know I’m like crazy drunk right now, but is this as bad of an idea as it looks?”

Steve had taken off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, flexing and trying unsuccessfully to intimidate Thor. He kept breaking his pre-fight glare with a fit of giggles.

“At least two tables will be broken.”

“Should we do something about it?” 

“Stark will pay, right?”

“He usually does.”

They watched Steve and Thor flex for the small crowd, similar expressions of interest on their faces.

Sam grinned. “Maybe I should jump in, girls dig this kind of-”

“Birdbrain, that is a _horrible_ idea.”

Sam gasped loudly, hand to his chest. “That kind of language is not okay, Freezer Pop.”  


“Fal-can’t”

“That’s a terrible insult, Bucket.”

“Well what do you call that, Green Eggs and Sam?”

“Okay, okay-” Smiling as he grabbed Bucky’s arm, Sam steered him away from the soon-to-be-disastrous wrestling match. “You’re terrible at words, but you gave me a great idea.” He glanced around the room. “Did you see a karaoke section when we came in?”

“ _No_.” Bucky planted his feet as best as he could, which wasn’t very solid considering the five (or seven) ‘special’ pints in him.

“No you didn’t see one, or no you’re not gonna join me?” Sam fished his phone out of his pocket. “C’mon, this will only work if it’s a duet.” 

“But there isn’t a machine, how will-”

“Oh there is  _ now _ .” He grinned and held up his phone for Bucky to read the screen.

“Shit, I actually know that song.”

“Barton’s ‘Welcome to the Team’ mixtape?”

“You too, huh?” Bucky groaned. “This is a bad idea. We’re just throwing fire on fire.”

They strode back to the table, Sam trying to look confident as the opening strains of  _ “I Believe I Can Fly” _ began to play off his phone. “Sometimes to save a bar from being wrecked, a man’s gotta sing some R. Kelly.” 

* * *

Fifteen minutes of raucous singing later, they did in fact manage to save one table. The other was sacrificed to the weight of a very surprised Tony Stark when his interpretive karaoke dance solo ended with a trip over a discarded jacket. Steve helped him up, brushing some of the bar floor off Stark’s shirt the best he could. They were laughing with and at each other, for the first time in a long while. Bucky swore he saw Natasha and Thor exchange a high five.

Bucky couldn't stop himself from grinning, the cold in his veins melted by liquor and carefree singing. 

“Told you, grandpa.” Sam paused to shoot finger guns back at Natasha, whom he had the luck to get a short dance with during their song. “There isn’t anything that can’t be saved by a drunken sing-along.”

Steve looked around at his team, taking goofy snaps of each other and giggling over the madness that only occurs after a bottle rocket of tension is finally released. He noticed Sam and Bucky standing next to each other and his face lit up.  


“So are you guys friends now?” 

Sam swung an arm over Bucky’s shoulders, his warm side pressing against his metal arm without hesitation. “You don’t go through the gauntlet of public karaoke shame and not come through the other side friends.”

* * *

Their next therapy session was much more colorful than the last. If the mediator was annoyed by their sudden outbursts of giggles as they texted sly messages from across the room (in the last few minutes, they’ve been group texting photos of Steve and Thor’s almost-showdown), she didn’t show it on her face. She was a professional after all, unlike a few names in the room she could mention.

But today her notepad entry was thankfully simple:  _ they’re healing. _

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this on my phone immediately after seeing Civil War because I am, at my very core, Marvel fandom trash. 
> 
> \--------  
> I apologize for any mistakes in the Russian. I was using both google (sorry) and a friend who knows the basics. The conversation went as follows:
> 
> Oo-vahs krahsee-viyeh glah-zah = У вас красивые глаза = you have nice eyes  
> “Спасибо, Sam. Вы тоже хорошо выглядите” = thank you Sam, you look good too.
> 
> \--------
> 
> Comments and kudos are appreciated as always! <3


End file.
